Outtakes from American Wolf in Forks
by feebes86
Summary: These are outtakes from the story AWIF. Although this is listed as a Bella and Jacob story, not all of the outtakes will contain them or their POV's. If you haven't read AWIF, I would suggest reading that first. Banner made by the incredible DontcallmeLeeLee at Printing Paws.


Beta'ed by MrsTrentReznor and BanSidhe (ruadh sidhe) and Pre-read by Iamtwilightobsessed (MP) and Sparkling Fae. All of these ladies write awesome stories, so if you haven't checked them out already please do so.

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognizable situations belong to Stephanie Meyer - Last I looked I wasn't her... this story is a work of fan fiction, except or course for the legends and histories of the Quileute Nation that, of course, belong to them.

Additional disclaimer: **Please read**

**WARNING: **This story is rated **NC17** for **language**, **sex** and **violence**. Parts of this story contain extreme, detailed, graphic violence including murder, dismemberment and rape. While large sections of this story are nice, I do not consider this to be an overall nice story. It is listed as horror for a reason. This story is not for the squeamish or prudish. If any of this offends you or bothers you in any way then please, turn back now, it's not too late.

**Outtake 1 A History of Violence **

To be read after chapter 33 of American Wolf in Forks

**?**** POV**

I woke up in a damp cave a couple of hours before sunset. I stretched and got to my feet, walked out into the open and then took a piss. The day was damp and overcast but I could still see the traces of blood on my cock and in the pubes at its base. I shrugged, it wouldn't matter, I would be turning again in a few hours, until then I could just enjoy the memories from the night before. And what sweet memories they were, I shifted and felt myself start to become engorged at the thought of that tight virgin ass. I shook my head and tried to think of something else, I couldn't afford that kind of distraction right now.

I walked back into the cave and kicked the foot of my new companion. He was in for a rude awakening. He had fed; he had given in to the frenzy of the full moon. He would never return to the morals that he'd held before. From now on it would only become easier for him to murder and feed.

It had only gotten that way for me. In the beginning, I had tried not to kill; now I didn't even feel bad about it. Killing had become effortless and simple. I needed to kill in order to eat, and so I did. Was I a predator? Was my kind at the top of the food chain? I suppose you could say yes to both of those questions. After all, there wasn't much that could destroy me and nothing out there would want to eat me.

I hadn't always been this mean and vicious though. In my human life, I had been a gentle person, someone that never would have resorted to violence.

I couldn't remember my parents or the country of my birth. My first memory was of being indentured to a young couple that was active in the Shaker community. My life there was predictable, safe and structured. There were a large number of adults that took interest in the children of the commune. I grew to adulthood learning the beliefs and ideals of the Shaker faith.

When I reached my majority, at age twenty-one, I was given the option of leaving my colony and making my own way in the world or remaining and committing to the Shaker beliefs for the rest of my life. It was a difficult decision. As a Shaker, I would never know physical intimacy with anyone, male or female; on the other hand, I would be a valued member of the community and it was all that I knew.

I chose to stay and work with the family I had grown up with. It was on a night, much like last night, that I meet my end. I had gone to deliver produce that we had grown in our garden to a local merchant to sell. When I was returning home, my horse stumbled and since I was unwilling to cause further injury to the animal, I unhitched it from the wagon and started walking it back to the commune. I never knew what hit me. I woke up the next morning on the side of the road, completely undressed and with a huge bite mark on my leg.

Over the course of the next few weeks, my body underwent a series of changes that resulted in me becoming the monster that I am today. The night of my first transformation, the feeding frenzy overtook me and I took out most of those that I considered to be my family. I was so overcome with guilt the next day that I tried to kill myself, only to learn that I couldn't.

The second night I transformed, I killed half of a local nearby town. The merchant that had purchased my produce was one of my first victims. His daughter and her husband followed him in death just moments later.

I traveled the country for a few years, searching out anyone that might have knowledge of what I was or what I turned into. Month after month, I was unsuccessful.

I learned quickly that if I were too far away from the public during the time of the full moon, I would be hungry until the next feeding time arrived. At times I even tried to have people locked into a room or cellar with me ahead of time. When I was successful with this, the smell of the fear from my victims flavored the meat and I soon started to deliberately play with my food before feeding. I found that the more I bruised and manipulated the flesh of my victims, the more tender the meat would be.

The Civil War came and went and I enjoyed my time helping the wounded to find relief and the dying to gain everlasting life. For a while, I just confined myself to the Northern Army. They were better fed than the South, didn't have the issues with starvation, and they weren't as likely to notice me coming and going. But I didn't stay that way for long. Only a few short weeks after the surrender of Lee, and I was activity searching out those that would be the tastiest, the ones far from the war in the East. Soon, I was planning my meals from the settlers to the West.

These hearty pioneers were usually well fed and filling and they were too tired to put up much of a fight. It was during this time that I first started to get the idea of sexual satisfaction. I had slept the day away in a rented room on top of a saloon. When the sun started to set, I woke up, intent of getting somewhere less populated in order to do my killings.

It was a young couple, so enamored of each other and so full of lust that they didn't even sense my approach that first made me think about the pleasure to be found between the thighs of a woman. It was my shock at hearing the sounds that they were making, that tempted me to stop and watch from behind the trees. He fucked her on the dirt and grass in a clearing, under the light of the full moon. Her skirts were hiked up around her waist and he had his pants down around his knees as he grunted and moved on top of her. He shouted and pressed himself as deep into her body as he could. His back arched and I could smell the salty essence that erupted from his body. He died a happy man. It was different for the woman, she yelled and she screamed. She tried to cover herself from my gaze and in my anger I hit her, knocking her head to the side and into a nearby log. My cock was hard as I fed off of her warm, unconscious body. She never awoke.

With the next full moon, I started taking my sexual pleasure with the women I would feed off of. I still couldn't bring myself to ignore my upbringing enough to fornicate while I wasn't altered, but in my other state, it became part of my normal kill.

It took another ten years before I finally decided to lose my human virginity. My first conquest was far too easy. A whore, a prostitute, a hooker, a member of the oldest profession, I didn't pay her. In fact, she gave me money. All of the money she had earned that night spreading her legs for every other man on the street. She didn't live long after our encounter, but I was hooked. I couldn't understand why I had been depriving myself. The warm, moist heat, the soft, yielding body, it felt too good to be a sin.

And then one night in a small town in Mississippi, I wasn't able to find a whore to take my pleasure on. I could feel the change coming, it was still a day or so away, but I needed sexual relief. I found it in a young girl, walking home in the early evening from visiting her sick aunt. I grabbed her and threw her over my shoulder. Her stomach bounced up and down and her head constantly hit the bottom of my back. I slapped her ass when she struggled and then I threatened to kill her if she didn't cooperate. Her sniffles and cries were more arousing then distracting. I pulled her into a nearby grove of trees and easily overpowered her.

She wasn't unconscious at all, merely stunned when I ripped her clothes off and impaled her on my hard shaft. Her screams made me harder than I had ever been before and the smell of her blood on my cock brought me to unparalleled heights of ecstasy. After feeling her snug cunt wrapped around my length, I knew then that I could never return to the lose twat of some whore.

I had another sexual breakthrough shortly after World War II. I was in New York City when I saw the two men in an alley way. One was bent over at his waist with his hands bracing himself against the wall. The second man was standing behind him. One man had his pants completely off while the one closest to me had his around his ankles. He was obviously pumping his tiny cock in and out of the other man.

I didn't waste any time in killing the one on bottom. I devoured his flesh and then I fucked the one on top before I also ended his life. I decided after hearing his tortured screams, that men held a certain charm as well and that I wouldn't let someone's gender determine my actions again. I went back to my Shaker upbringing and started dealing in equality, whether man or woman, young or old, from then on I would enjoy a good fuck before my meal.

In all of my years of life, the only line I had never crossed was children and pregnant women. Children still held no appeal for me. I didn't want them sexually and I didn't want to feed off them. They were too little to make a good meal, even if they would be incredibly tender.

Pregnant women had never tempted me either. Something about their rounded stomachs sickened and disgusted me. Their scent was off and the heartbeat of the unborn was distracting. No, I had never had a desire to feast on a breeding cow, at least not until last night. The image I'd had flew to the forefront of my mind and lingered. I saw myself, ripping the unborn child from its mother's womb and then sinking my teeth into her beating heart. I looked at the face of my victim and pictured it twisted in horror and helplessness. A smile spread across my face and I had to stop myself from stroking my cock.

A moan from inside the cave distracted me and I growled at the interruption.

Moments later, Ethan walked out into the fading sunlight. He pissed, stretched and then scratched his ass.

"Charming," I quipped.

He jumped as if I had startled him.

"You need to be more aware," I chided.

"Sorry," Ethan muttered.

I ignored his apology. "So how are you feeling today?" I looked him over closely. There was a smear of dried blood across his cheek and also several clumps in his hair.

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Did I really do that? Kill that guy I mean?"

I laughed. "Yes, you really killed him. In fact, you ate his flesh; you feasted on the meat from his bones. You don't remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, I was just hoping it was a nightmare."

I continued to chuckle.

"Fuck off dude, it's not funny," Ethan said after a while. "You know, you've never told me your name."

I looked at Ethan carefully, "You can call me Kane." It wasn't the name that I had been born with but instead it was one I had adopted. Much like the biblical person that I had styled the name from, I too had killed those I considered to be my brothers.

We were quiet for several long minutes and then Ethan asked, "So that last night, does that happen often?"

"The feeding?" I thought I knew what he was getting at but decided to verify what he wanted to know.

"That and the… other," he finally uttered.

I heard the thought in his head before he ever had a chance to say it aloud. I started laughing.

"Why are you laughing, what's so funny?" Ethan asked.

"You want to know if your ass is safe from me," I turned to look at him and sneered, "If I wanted to fuck you I would have already done so. You would have woken up on your stomach with a sore ass and my semen dripping from your gaping hole. Since you didn't, you can assume that for now, you are safe."

I turned my back to the young werewolf and looked at the sun, low in the sky. "It will be nighttime soon. This will be the last time you transform until next month. One day, when you have mastered the ability, you will be able to change at will, but until then you are a slave to Luna. Enjoy your feast this evening, the human food you are used to will not hold the same appeal as it did before."

"Do I have a choice in this?" Ethan asked me.

"No, after feeding off of a fresh kill, the blood lust will overtake you at each full moon. From now on, the only choice you have is whether to kill rapidly or slowly. I prefer the slow method; it gives the meat more flavors and the beating I give my victim fills the meat with blood and makes it tenderer."

Ethan nodded as if he had suspected as much.

I pushed myself into his brain and listened to his thoughts, it was all I could do to keep from laughing. The monster was starting to take over already. Ethan was remembering the savory meal from the night before and how juicy and delicious the meat had been when he tore it off the bone. I turned my head so that he didn't see my smirk.

"One day you are going to have to tell me how you do that," he said.

"Do what… Invade your mind?"

"Yes," he verified.

"It will come to you with time. When you are older it is a skill that you will develop. You can read my thoughts now, correct?"

"Only when you push them into my head," he replied.

"That is all you need for now."

I turned back to look at the sun. It was slowly setting over the edge of the trees. The moon wouldn't be up for quite some time yet. I sat down with my back to the surface of the rock and looked out over the forest. Somewhere inside the trees I would find tonight's meal, and when I did, I would push the memory of the pregnant bitch into Ethan's mind. By the time I was done, he would hate her. By the time he was done, she would no longer have a baby to worry about.


End file.
